


The Love I'm Frightened Of

by sasha_hawkeyes



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, F/M, Postpartum Depression, Teen Pregnancy, raising a child with the help of family and friends, sasha and eren are twins yo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-03-18 11:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3567947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasha_hawkeyes/pseuds/sasha_hawkeyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sasha only wanted to fool around. She never wanted to get saddled with a child she didn't love (or even like, for that matter), a shitty desk job that had no future, or a heaving depression that made her chest constrict with fear every single time she heard her daughter's voice. Sasha wanted none of those things and yet, she got them all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where a Soul Divides

**Author's Note:**

> this is a disclaimer  
> i am not a good writer and i am a mess when it comes to words, so don't expect much of this story. there is a lot of time-skips, a lot of crying (both from me and the main character), and a lot of overall dissatisfaction with the following story (most likely from you guys) 
> 
> please don't end up hating me, i swear i don't even know how these ideas come to me

_I don’t love you_ , the venom inside her mind spat.  _I don’t love you and I don’t_  want  _to love you. I never asked for this._

Was this normal? Probably not. Was it acceptable? No, definitely not.

Sasha really shouldn’t have felt this way, hating someone so close to her, hating someone she was supposed to love more than the world itself. She searched her heart for any bit of love she could scrape up, but she came up empty.  _Well,_  bitter thoughts plagued her mind,  _empty is better than hate, I suppose._

Oh, she was so entirely, totally messed up. Probably even more messed up than her brother, and that kid used to burn ants with a magnifying glass when they were younger.

She needed sleep. Her eyes felt heavy, filled to the brim with hot sand. She remembered that, when she and her twin brother were younger, their father used to sit them both down and tell them stories of the Sandman, a god of good dreams who, throughout the day, sprinkles sand of good dreams in your eyes. “That’s why your eyes start hurting at night,” her dad would always say. “The Sandman put a lot of sand which brings good dreams in your eyes.”

She was seven when she last heard the Sandman story, sitting on the bottom bunk bed in the room she and her brother shared, when their dad still gave them the time of day and before he started making their mother cry by simply not showing up for dinner. She hadn’t thought back to the Sandman story in years and, frankly, it seemed a bit ridiculous to think back to it now, when she was barely nineteen and completely ruined and, oh my god, so tired.

“Sash,” her brother must have been calling her name for the past ten minutes. She had no idea where she found the strength to ignore him, the strength not to kick him, the strength not to grab that blanket in his arms and throw-

“Sash, the baby’s hungry,” he repeated for the hundredth time.  _I know she’s hungry,_  Sasha wanted to say. _I know, I know, do you think I can’t hear her scream? Okay, I know she’s hungry, but I am not feeding her. Find a way around it. I don’t care._

Her brother looked downright miserable, what with that mess of a hair and his bloodshot eyes. Yeah, he wasn’t all that tired. He had come to help only a few hours ago. What about her sleep? She hadn’t gotten a wink of it for  _days_. She watched him bounce the little bundle of crying blankets in his arms, shush and coo at the baby in his hands, and she wished he would just drop her, let her fall down onto the floor and maybe die.

_Oh, god, what’s wrong with me?_

“Sash, please,” her brother muttered, and Sasha forced herself to look up again. Eren hadn’t sounded that broken in years. He hadn’t sounded that broken since he last begged their parents not to call it quits and get divorced. “Please, she’s just hungry. C’mon.”

 “Fine.” 

 _I don’t want to hold her._  “Give her here.”

_I migh_

* * *

_t do something bad to her, Eren. Don’t give me the baby. I don’t want this baby. I don’t want my baby…_

But within minutes, the crying had stopped. Eren sat down next to his sister, watching as she pressed the small baby to her chest. Greedy lips were pressed against Sasha’s breast, small eyes closing and gentle hands settling on Sasha’s hot skin. She was beautiful and perfect in the moments when she was quiet, but those moments were few and far between.

“Eren,” Sasha called out, reaching a free hand to latch onto the fabric of her brother’s shirt. He wasn’t surprised to look up and see her crying, silent tears slipping down her cheeks. It was something which happened more and more often with each passing day. “Eren, I don’t think I love this baby. I don’t think I even like it.”

“Yeah, Sash. I know.”

“Can we fix this?”

“We’ll talk to mom about it in the morning,” Eren promised. “She always knows what to do.”

But even as the promise left his lips, Eren wasn’t sure if he could keep it. He wasn’t sure it was normal to hate your child. Honestly, he hoped that it was an anomaly and that his sister would eventually turn around, but Sasha was known for her all-around stubbornness.

His sister fell asleep with the child still in her arms, so small and content and surprisingly quiet, for once. “We’ll fix this problem your momma has,” he whispered to the baby. “I promise.”

 

* * *

 

Sasha hated baby slings. Well, frankly, she hated the ‘baby’ part more than the ‘sling’ part, but that wasn’t important right now. What was important was the fact that Sophie kept kicking her little hands into her abdomen, violently assaulting her mother’s diaphragm with each new kick.

“Oh, my god,” Sasha breathed out after a while, looking down at the baby attached to her chest. “Okay, let’s get one thing clear. I’m not for kicking, okay?” She peered into little round eyes the color of molten gold and watched the baby babble with a bright smile.

She wasn’t cut out to be a mother. “I can’t wait until you become sentient and I can ship you off into some kind of overseas boarding school. You look like the right fit for Hogwarts. The giant squid in their lake must get lonely,” she mused more to herself than to her daughter as she rolled their shopping cart down the supermarket isles.

Unhealthy cereal with far too much sugar? Check. Gross, sugary baby food? Check. Vodka she would drink after Sophie falls asleep while watching the last season of Game of Thrones? Check. Diapers? Nope.

Sasha sighed softly. “Okay, brat,” she muttered down to her daughter, “time to get a new fill of shit-pants for you and get the hell outta here. Sasha has some TV shows to catch up on and an entirely new bottle of vodka to exploit.”

As she yanked down the largest (and cheapest) packet of diapers in the store, Sasha looked down at the baby on her chest. The little girl, with pretty eyes and the same messy, unruly hair which was passed down Sasha’s family for generations, stared at her gently, seemingly taking interest in her mother’s tired face.

“What?” Sasha asked, frowning down. “You try’na start a brawl, kid? Fine, I’ll fight you. I’ll take you down with one blow before you even get to shit in your diaper.” The little girl giggled, reaching her chubby hands out to tug at the stray strands of hair which fell out of Sasha’s ponytail. Sasha scoffed, wringing her hair out of the baby’s strong grip. “Ow! Wow, okay, looks like you really do wanna fight. You got that from your shitty uncle.”

Sasha suddenly stopped rolling the shopping cart and pondered her words as her brown eyes bore into her baby’s amber ones. “Or could even be from your good-for-nothing father… You know what, I don’t care.”

It had become a routine for Sasha. No matter how tired or angry she felt, the first thing she did every morning was tie the fussy baby to her chest. Then, she would lean against the wall and breathe deeply for a while, just to calm the aggressive urge to vomit inside her chest. The relationship she had with her infant daughter wasn’t exactly typical, Sasha presumed. She never cooed or sang nursery rhymes. Minding her language around the little kid was hardly ever an option and the only nicknames she gave her own child were mostly ‘brat’ and ‘kid’, neither one of which was a lovey-dovey mothering nickname she read in those  _What To Expect_  books. She didn’t like reading those books. They made her think to a few months back, when she was still a depressed mess of blubbering tears and overwhelming fear.

 Sasha couldn’t stand the thought of actually being a mother. But a babysitter, that she could be. She babysat kids all the time when she was still in high school. Babysitting was easy. You’d just strap the kid to your chest and tell them stupid stuff while making sure they didn’t die. And, if the kid wasn’t an infant, but a toddler, well, then you just had to be a bit more careful with your language.

She stumbled out of the supermarket, one hand gripping the grocery bags tightly and the other supporting the little bundle on her chest. The summer air had grown stale and she sighed, looking down at her daughter. “Gotta warn you, kid, I sweat like a pig in the summer months. Good luck with that,” Sasha said.

It was easy to fare through like that. To pretend like the child she carried around wasn’t hers, like she hadn’t lived through a terrifying pregnancy and an even more terrifying birth. Like she was just a babysitter, and she had no obligation to feel any deep love towards this child.

Sophie cooed at her, gripping the fabric of her mother’s shirt tightly and attempting to yank it down, exposing Sasha’s cleavage a bit. “Hah! Yeah, you get that from your shit father, too,” she laughed, pulling her shirt back up. “I should saddle him with you for a day. You know, to have a bubble bath, get drunk, cry a lot…” Sophie looked at her mother blankly.

Yes, pretending she wasn’t emotionally invested in the kid was easy. Facing the truth that, honestly, she was very much invested… now,  _that_  was hard.


	2. People with Small Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just want you to know that all of this is unbeta'd and that most of it was written in a single night and then edited later, so it probably seems all over the place (which it is) 
> 
> just throw me into the trash where i belong already

The building's corridor was cold and the shade suited his skin, helping him cool down from the terrible summer heat of the streets. Jean stood in front of her apartment door, still trying to gather enough courage to actually clench his fist and knock. It was hard, it was complicated and, most of all, he felt guilty. Every time he glanced at her face, every time he came to visit and see his daughter – their daughter – he would feel inexplicably guilty at the sight of Sasha's frowning, tired features.

Finally, he decided to stop letting his mind rush back to the past he couldn't change and knocked on the door gently, taking half a step back. Jean fixed his button-up and ran a hand through his styled hair, suddenly feeling far too nervous, like he was eighteen all over again, knocking of the front door of Sasha's house and coming eye-to-eye with her pissed-off brother when all he wanted was to take his girlfriend out for a date.

„Took you long enough to get here,“ Sasha spat. There was no venom in her voice, surprisingly, and she even shoved a bottle of ice-cold beer into his hands as he walked into the apartment. “The kid’s still sleeping in the bedroom, have a drink while you still can.”

Jean gratefully took the bottle, fighting the urge to press it against the hot skin of his face. He made his way through the miniature hallway, continuing through to drop down on the old sofa placed in front of Sasha's TV. He took a glance around the apartment, finding it to be exactly the same as the last time he visited. It was a small shoebox, with something that barely passed for a living room. Only three doors led out of the small space – the first toward the bathroom, the second toward Sasha’s small kitchenette, and the last toward the bedroom she and her daughter shared. There were still no decorations or clutter in the apartment, save for a calendar and heavy phonebook placed on the shelf by the door. At the very foot of the sofa he was lounging on, he could see a dirty t-shirt hiding away.

Sasha’s apartment didn’t have any of the warmth Jean always anticipated. Every time he walked through the front door, he expected to see her standing in front of the wall in paint-stained overalls, coloring the walls some atrocious shade of bright orange she would absolutely adore. He wanted to see framed pictures from their high-school days set on every surface and a wall full of places she wanted to travel after she finished college. That’s at least what Sasha always described back in the day. Her perfect apartment, her perfect and ideal home was so much different than what she really got.

Sasha took a long sip of the beer in her hand, smacking her lips happily and settling further into the seat beside him. “Are you sure you should be drinking? What with Sophie around and all,” Jean asked, sounding slightly worried. He eyed the beer bottle she set down on the coffee table, already halfway empty.

“Oh, please,” Sasha scoffed, “Sophie doesn’t mind. She says I’m more fun when I’m drunk.” Jean narrowed his amber eyes.

“She’s eight months old, she doesn’t really say much of anything,” he muttered.

“Oh!” Sasha suddenly exclaimed. She cocooned her hand around her ear, craning her neck toward the bedroom where Sophie was sleeping. “Hear that, Jean? The kid just told me you’re a major snooze.”

He gave some strange combination of a scoff and a snort in response, having a sip of his own beer as his free hand smacked Sasha’s knee playfully. “So,” he asked, setting his bottle down next to Sasha’s, “how’ve you been doing?”

She fixed him with a cold, dead expression. “Jean, you literally did not just ask a single mother with an infant on her hands how she has been doing,” she muttered and, in that moment, Jean could tell exactly how tired she felt.

“I didn’t mean…” he sighed, staring down at his fingers. He picked at the peeling skin by his fingernails, a habit he developed back when they were barely even teenagers to begin with and his professors chewed him out for picking yet another fight with Eren, the prick. “I just want to make sure you’re getting by alright, Sash.”

“Unclench your ass, Kirschstein. I’m stronger than I seem,” she assured him. Jean looked up at her, not in the least surprised to see her lift the beer bottle to her lips. “It’s fine. My parents help out, mom a little more in the actual sense of the word. Dad pays for pretty much everything still, since I can’t get a job just yet. So I guess I’m getting by just fine.”

She didn’t say it out loud, but by the pointed look she gave him, he could read out her thoughts like she was an open book before him.  _I’m getting by alright without your help._

Jean put his hands up defensively, sinking back into his seat. “I’m just worried about you, Sash.”

She sighed, not granting him with a proper response. For a while they sat in silence, his pale knuckles knocking against Sasha’s bare thighs. Stealing glances at her like that, a fire ignited in his chest, reminding him of those times when things were simpler and he wasn’t a father. He remembered how they used to sit on his sofa, staring at the sunset through the huge living room windows of his house, talking about their future.

This was the furthest thing from what either one of them had originally imagined.

“Well, Mister I-Will-Pull-It-Out-On-Time,” Sasha said, standing up with the bottle’s throat swaying between her fingers, “Go wake your daughter up. Bond with your brat, or whatever.” She watched him sigh in resignation as he trudged over to the bedroom door.

There was not much to be said about their relationship. What started out as a fling in the summer before senior year soon became an actual thing, and for a couple months, Sasha Jaeger and Jean Kirschstein were an item, much to her brother’s chagrin. And, yes, sure, there might have been love a long time ago, for half an hour in the back seat of his dad’s old Ford, but now… this was just common courtesy. If there was no child connecting them, the two would have broken up before they could even start college. It would result in barely speaking five words in passing, just to reminisce about the good old times. Unfortunately for Sasha, her good old times were ripped from her and exchanged for dirty diapers and a shitty ache in her chest.

Several minutes later, Jean sauntered out of her bedroom with Sophie tucked into the baby carrier on his chest. He was shaking some rattle toy to keep her occupied. “I’ll have her back tomorrow. Please don’t be hungover,” he said. He fixed Sophie’s bag on his shoulder and walked over to Sasha, brushing a strand of greasy brown hair from her eyes. “You need anything, just call me.”

“I should be saying that to you,” she said matter-of-factly, “but I don’t care anymore. Get out of my apartment, Kirschstein, I need to take a bubble bath.”

 

* * *

 

Sasha flicked her wrist and watched the wine in her glass swirl around. Round and round, wetting the dry edges of transparent glass, staining them slightly red…

“Sash, y’still here?” Eren asked through the phone.

She downed the rest of her wine and set the empty glass down on the tile floor, humming in response. “Yeah, sorry. You were saying?”

Her brother paused for a second, before continuing his desperate soliloquy. “Right, as I was saying, things are absolutely critical right now. I’m pretty sure Armin is more popular than Sylvester freakin’ Stallone, this is ridiculous,” he huffed into his phone’s receiver and Sasha couldn’t stifle her laughter anymore.

“Pfft, you’ve gotta be kidding me, Er,” she scoffed. Sasha sunk deeper into the bathtub, the bubbles tickling her chin as she cheerfully poked them around the bathtub, absentmindedly playing. “Armin’s handsome! Armin’s clever. Armin doesn’t pick fights with everything that leaks testosterone. Of course he’s getting popular now that you’re in college.”

“Yeah, but the thing is, he’s getting awfully buddy-buddy with this one girl, Sash,” Eren said. He was speaking quietly, almost whispering, and Sasha could practically imagine him hiding away in his shitty dorm room, whispering into the phone in a dark corner, glancing around every once in a while just to make sure his roommate and best friend didn’t hear him gossiping.

“I’m gonna say it again – Armin’s handsome and clever and-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know, an overall saint,” Eren interrupted. “That’s beside the point, though. The point is that you should have seen that girl! She’s a knockout, c’mon. When was the last time Armin scored a knockout?”

Sasha contemplated, blowing bubbles around the bathroom like a playful child. “I made out with him once and, personally, I like to think I’m a knockout, so…”

“Yeah, but- wait, what?” Eren stumbled over his words. “What the fuck, Sasha? Why didn’t I know about this?”

Sasha wiggled her toes in the bath water, relishing in the sheer amount of bubbles surrounding her. Oh, how nice did this feel… She needed this, she really did. It was relaxing, both to her tired mind and her aching muscles. Ever since her daughter was born, this was the first time Sasha could actually, honest-to-god relax. There was no crying, no whining, no babbling… Only bubbles in her bathwater, an empty glass of red wine, and her brother on the other side of a cellphone conversation.

“You didn’t know ‘cause you never asked,” she sing-songed into the receiver. On the other side, Eren snorted. “Besides, you would have knuckle-sandwiched the guy into oblivion, like you did with all of my boyfriends. I didn’t want that, since Armin was my friend.”

“Yeah, and my  _best_  friend! Which makes me even more suspicious of this knockout business he has going on.” Sasha rolled her eyes. “Is he scoring the knockout and not telling me about it? How many has he scored so far and not told me about?”

He suddenly gasped and, for a split-second, Sasha thought he had stubbed his toe or got shot or something worse. “What if,” Eren started, “he’s not a virgin anymore and he never told me about it? What if he lost his virginity to Mina Carolina?”

“Oh, for crying out loud… Er, you’re overreacting.”

Eren was silent for a little while, before huffing and muttering how ‘Mina Carolina was something you wouldn’t understand’. Sasha swirled her toes around the bathwater again and sighed contently. “Hey, how come everything’s so quiet on your end?” Eren suddenly asked.

Sasha quirked an eyebrow, confusion washing over her. “What do you mean?”

“Sasha. You have a daughter.”

“Oh! No, no, I remember,” she fumbled for words. “But I thought I told you, she’s with Jean tonight.”

She swore she could hear her brother let out an animalistic growl, like some kind of rabid beast on the loose. “Sasha, no. Tell me you didn’t let that freak take care of my little niece!”

“He’s not a freak,” she said, although unsure of why exactly she was sticking up for her ex-boyfriend.

“He’s majoring in communicology, anyone who even  _considers_  that as a valid option for a major is a fuckin’ freak.”

Sasha rolled her eyes. She sat up in her bath, drawing her knees closer to her chest and blowing at the bubbles, watching them spray around the bathroom. “So what if I let him take care of the kid? He’s her father and I deserve a break. Actually, I deserve a thousand breaks. He can just take her forever, for all I care.”

“He’s a prick and he’s gonna ruin her innocence,” Eren huffed. “I’m pretty sure he’s making her do a keg stand as we speak.”

“Do you even know how babies work?” she muttered into her phone before sighing again. “Look, I know this has nothing to do with the brat and has everything to do with you hating Jean because he stole your Transformers pencil in third grade. I’m hanging up now.”

Before she cut him off, Sasha heard her brother shout how ‘it was a Ben 10 Limited Edition ballpoint pen and fuck no, that’s not what this is about’. Sasha glanced at her phone’s clock. She could spare at least half an hour longer before she got hungry enough to have lunch.

Sasha leaned back in the bathtub and closed her eyes. The phone slid down to the floor and she tucked her arms into the bath water, humming along to some song stuck in her head, the one she’d heard yesterday morning when she was grocery shopping with Sophie.

With Sophie…

Everything seemed to be ‘with Sophie’ as of late. Sasha ate when Sophie ate, slept when Sophie slept, cried when Sophie cried (which was becoming a rarer occurrence by the day, thankfully).

Everything Sasha did was focused around Sophie. Hell, she couldn’t even remember the last time she could take a bath like this, let alone do something purely for herself. Except for today, she mused. It was her once-in-a-blue-moon-opportunity.

She dried off her hand with the towel beside the bathtub and grabbed her phone tightly again, scrolling through her contact list. Even though she hadn’t seen them in months, Sasha still kept a few close friends. Texts and e-mails were the only contact they could have, but Sasha had been reassured a thousand times that, whenever she had the time, Ymir and Historia would welcome her with arms wide open. Her finger hovered above Ymir’s contact information, hesitating to press the green call button on the screen.

Sasha sighed and scrolled up on her contact list, opting for a completely different option. She didn’t have the strength to see her friends. She didn’t have the strength to listen to them muse about how cute Sophie looked the last time they saw her or how Sasha was really holding up well for her situation when, in reality, she wasn’t. It wasn’t something she could deal with.

She pressed the call button and leaned her phone against her hear, listening to the monotonous ringing of the phone before he picked up.

“Hello, this is Sasha Jaeger…”

“ _Yes?_ ” the voice on the other line encouraged, somehow sounding both cold and interested at the same time.

“I want to make an appointment. Are you free today?”


	3. A Self-Esteem To Match

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i am trying to put all of my thoughts into words and all my feelings on the screen but i have a feeling it's just not working. also, i'm sorry for ruining your favourite characters and pushing them so far out of character
> 
> why am i doing this again? ah, that's right. public ridicule gives me a reason not to leave my room

The clock's eerie tick drove her insane. Repetitively ticking, the thin and frail hands of the clock moved ahead, eating up time faster than Sasha would have liked. In his seat opposite hers, Levi shifted his weight, the leather of his armchair squeaking from the friction his clothes created.

“You called me out of the clear sky, Jaeger,” he mentioned in that monotone his voice always carried. It was the voice of a calm and collected man, the complete opposite of Sasha’s muddled up brains. “And I don’t really mind the silence, just so you know. The longer you keep quiet, the more money I make, since I-“

“You charge by the hour, yeah. I remember that,” Sasha finished his thought. She finally dared to look up from her sweaty palms and into Levi’s steel eyes. It’s not like money was a problem for her. Daddy dearest, being a doctor, could afford to make up for all his sins simply by paying for everything she needed. Rent for her shoebox apartment, doctor’s appointments, or even granting Sasha and her twin with a generous weekly allowance – it was all very well within the reach of Grisha and his thick wallet.

“Jaeger, you called for a reason, didn’t you?” Levi’s question sounded more like a reminder.  _You’re here as a paying customer, kid,_  she could imagine him say.  _I’m not a sitter or a friend to keep when you’re feeling down and lonely._

Sasha cleared her throat and looked at the clock on Levi’s wall. The past ten minutes were spent in uncomfortable silence, filled only with the sound of ticking clocks and passing time, accompanied by the gentle tap of Levi’s slender fingers against the plastic clipboard in his hands. “Doctor-“

“I’m not a doctor,” he corrected. Behind those steel, cold eyes might have been a smile, hiding away in some corner of his mind.

“I thought you were a shrink,” Sasha blurted.

His hidden smile surfaced in the form of a smirk accompanied with a condescending scoff, directed not so much at Sasha, but at the very idea of psychiatrists and doctors and whatnot. “Oh, please, you’re not nearly messed up enough to need an  _actual_  shrink,” he drew his words out, stretching them like a cat on a hot, summer day. Sasha was about to ask what to call him, if ‘doctor’ simply wouldn’t do, but those perceptive eyes seemed to read her mind. “I’m just a psychologist, Levi’s gonna be fine. Besides, I’m not as old as your geezer father, so there’s no need for boundless respect.”

When she first met him, Sasha thought Levi to be frightening, scary, perhaps just a little bit rude. But now, lounging on the leather sofa in his tidy little office, Sasha knew she had him pegged wrong. He does care, sometimes, even for the fraction of a passing second. “Well, Levi,” his name felt foreign on her tongue, but she decided to stick to the point, “I think you made a mistake the last time we saw each other.”

Levi quirked his eyebrow at her. “Oh? Is that so?” he asked, and Sasha feared he would scoff again. “Well, what makes you say that?”

“The kid – my kid… I still don’t feel like a mother. Are you sure that the postpart-“

Levi cut her off by waving his hand and giving a small shake of his head, strands of black hair dancing with his every move. “I’ll stop you right there, Jaeger. I’ve seen postpartum depression before and, yeah, for a little while, you might have experienced it.” She watched him lean closer to her, elbows resting against his bony knees. “But I’ve also seen actual, clinical depression, Jaeger. And your case sounds a little more on that side of the fence.”

Sasha kept quiet for a while. She had feared Levi would say something along those lines and confirm her suspicions, confirm that she wasn’t normal and that the things going through her mind weren’t okay, they weren’t okay at all and she was messed up, more than she would ever feel comfortable admitting. “So, what do I do?” she asked, voice small and cracking whenever she spoke.

“In any other case, I would say antidepressants and see you in two weeks,” Levi leaned back. His slender fingers tapped a beat against his clipboard once more and he tilted his head. “But your old man did me a few solids back in the day. I want to personally make sure you get better, not just dismiss you as another case of the mean blues and be done with it. I owe Grisha at least this much.”

Sasha bit her lip. She truly was a burden, both to her father and to Levi. The man didn’t even know her, for Christ’s sake, and here he was, forced to deal with all her bullshit. “What’s the plan?” Sasha asked again, leaning forward to peer at his eerily empty clipboard.

“I’ll be seeing you more often, Jaeger. That’s the plan. Not very intricate or complicated, I believe. But I need you to start talking to me, properly talking. That is, if you want me to help you.” Levi sighed softly, glancing up at his clock. “I still have half an hour left before my next appointment. Do you want to stay and chit-chat, or do you want us to save it for next time?”

Sasha stood up, dusting her trousers off, even though she was well-aware that Levi’s office would never even  _dare_  be dusty. She gave Levi a small, wan smile and held her hand out for a handshake. He followed her lead, standing up and gripping her hand tightly, his cool skin pressing against her sweaty, hot palm. „Thank you, Levi,“ Sasha said, „but I think we won't see each other so soon. I think I just overreacted a little.“

„Don't try to bullshit past me, Jaeger. I bullshit people for a living, I can sniff your crap out a mile away,“ he warned. „But I won't force you into anything. Just know that my door is always open for Grisha's kids.“

„...Thank you, Levi.“ And as those words crossed her lips once more, Sasha knew she really meant them this time round.

 

* * *

The evening and the following morning passed in a monotonous blur, a mixture of tidying the shoebox she lived in and calling her mother for the weekly report. The lack of petulant crying or vomit-inducing cooing was a nice change of pace, however, and Sasha could find herself enjoying the easy time and the way it sped past.

By the time the sun started bleeding into the horizon, Sasha felt at ease. Mostly. Not really, but honestly, when was anyone completely at ease? It was healthy to be on one's toes, always ready for new dangers which stood ahead.

She caught herself thinking back to Levi's words from yesterday a thousand times, as she leaned out the apartment window, a lit cigarette twirling between her fingers.  _Depression in the actual, clinical sense._  That's what he had said. A strange weight pressed on Sasha's heart, tugging it down toward her stomach. It could only be described as some strange concoction of guilt and fear. Who was she to feel this messed up? Her childhood, while not completely ideal, was far from damaging or sad or upsetting.

Her parents loved her, they did, really. Both Sasha and her brother were treated with immense love and care. Carla was the kind of working mother who always found time to chase Eren around their backyard and tickle Sasha until there were tears in her eyes and her muscles were sore. Grisha, while rarely around, found his own ways to express how much he cared for his kids. He would set a new, shiny gaming console under the Christmas tree to congratulate Eren on his success with the Science Fair ribbon he and Armin procured, and Sasha's first skateboard was bought three days after her father missed out on her first soccer game.

Yes, Grisha Jaeger was around for only a few chapters of Sasha's and Eren's life, but that didn't diminish his importance as a key character. Sasha knew their father loved them, it was something she believed in without a single doubt clouding her mind. And yet, each time she tried to think about Levi's words, her father was the weak link in the chain she tried to trace around her fragile sanity.

Perhaps it was her absent father's fault, Sasha mused. Perhaps you couldn't prove your love with dresses and skateboards and small apartments overlooking their city's impressive landscape of mountainous buildings and river-like streets. „I'm just as bad,“ she muttered, taking another drag of the nicotine into her lungs. „I'll mess that poor kid up more than Dad messed  _me_  up.“

She watched the smoke escape her lips and climb into the setting sky. The sun had long ago crept behind a tall skyscraper, but its trace was still visible in the sky. Gentle blue mixed with traces of gold and orange, coming together into a color Sasha was all too familiar with. Even when she tried to run away from her fears, they found her. They followed Sasha around in the setting sky, peering at her like two small eyes of honey-colored fire.

Life sucked for Sasha Jaeger, and that was an understatement.

The sudden knock on the door forced Sasha to extinguish her cigarette’s flame and flick the butt out the window and onto the deserted streets. She crossed the few steps toward the door and, after giving herself time to breathe ( _breathe, dammit, this is nothing new, it’s just Jean and the kid and it’s alright, Sasha, you’ve got this by the balls, you can do this_ ), Sasha yanked the door open.

“Oh,” Jean hummed with mock-amusement. “You don’t look hungover.”

Sasha fixed him with a pissed-off glare. He always knew how to push her buttons in five words or less, just how to make her boil with anger and how to bring out that hot-headed side which was more often found in her brother’s antics than her own.

Jean stepped into the apartment, gently rocking Sophie in the baby sling on his chest. Sasha took a peek at the child – the girl seemed to be blissfully asleep, the side of her face pressed against her father’s chest, listening to the solid beating of his heart. “I’ll go set her down in the bedroom,” he announced.

She followed him to the room’s door, leaning against the wooden frame. Jean paid her no mind as he gently stepped over to the small crib, tucked in the lonely corner of Sasha’s bland room. He was careful with Sophie in his arms, with a gentle and mature attitude Sasha had never hoped to see him wear. After he gingerly set his daughter down into the crib, Jean’s calloused fingers caressed the curve of Sophie’s small head, running through dark brown strands of soft, angelic hair. He smiled softly and Sasha had to tell herself that she was not jealous.

After all, the last time she saw him smile so gently and softly was when they were together, talking about their future colleges and making stupid, vain promises about never drifting apart. In a strange, morbid sense, Sasha supposed, they never would drift apart now. After all, they had a pretty good set of sutures sewing them together.

“You want to stay for a cup of coffee or something?” Sasha whispered. She was careful not to wake Sophie up, not in the least ready to deal with the abundance of crying she could unleash upon them.

Jean nodded, shouldering past her and into the living room. He sniffed the air around Sasha with a frown. “You’ve been smoking again,” his words sounded less like a question and more like an accusation.

Closing the bedroom door as silently as she could, Sasha shrugged. “Coping mechanism.”

“Cancer is your coping mechanism?” Jean asked, cringing at her choice of words.

Sasha, however, remained undeterred. She shoved Jean toward the small kitchenette. “Shut up. You want that coffee or do you want a kick in the nose?”

He sighed exasperatedly. “Coffee it is.”

“Coffee it is.”


	4. Less About Mothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! i'm really sorry about the little delay i've made on this, but i promise, i haven't dropped it. i will see this through to the end even if it kills me. 
> 
> this chapter was a bit harder for me to rewrite since i have no idea what i'm doing?? and i really hope it didn't turn out to be 100% shitty, sorry. 
> 
> i would also like to thank every single person who reads this, gives kudos or puts it in their bookmarks, to everyone who comments and thinks 'you know, i might just wait for that trash loser to update this to read another chapter'. thank you all from the bottom of my heart, i really can't tell you how much i appreciate everything you do. not a single hit on this fic goes unnoticed, i assure you.
> 
>  
> 
> (also, Sophie is one in this chapter, and Sasha is nineteen)

“Mom, put the camera down,” Sasha pleaded with the woman, but Carla Jaeger wasn’t one to be easily swayed.

Clicking her tongue, she kept filming. “Aww, but look how cute my two baby girls are! Sophie, smile for grandmamma!” Sophie, of course, complied, giggling happily in Sasha’s arms.

Sasha, however, was only trying to find a way out. She made eye-contact with her dad and mouthed a plea to him, to which he chuckled. “Sash, you gotta let your mother do her thing every once in a while,” he said.

“Easy for you to say, you divorced her,” Sasha muttered while looking down at Sophie. The little girl looked up after hearing those words, clever amber eyes shining like she understood just what Sasha had to say. Hmf.

Carla only rolled her eyes at her ex-husband’s remark and scooted closer to Sophie and Sasha on the couch. She pointed the camera in Sophie’s face and started cooing at her. “Say something nice to grandmamma, Sophie!”

Sasha wanted to die. Her apartment wasn’t large enough to begin with, let alone with half a dozen people crammed inside. But everyone had insisted, since it was Sophie’s first birthday, to come over. From the moment her doorbell rang for the first time, it was official. Sasha Jaeger now hated birthday celebrations.

She searched her small living room for her brother’s familiar figure and found him leaning against the kitchen entrance, chatting animatedly to Marco. Ah, Marco. Sasha was willing to bet her left leg there were both girls and boys running after that boy all the time, swooning his name and creaming in their pants at the very thought of being in his presence. Marco was a saint. Marco was Jesus who had come among us again, donning fitted button-ups and freckles instead of a scruffy beard and a halo around his head. She wondered how in the world Jean was so blessed to have landed him as a roommate.

He was nice enough, Sasha concluded when she first met him. It was a warm afternoon when they first met each other, on a Tuesday which Sasha and Sophie religiously spent grocery shopping – a fact which was well-known to Jean. But still, as fate would have it, Sasha and Sophie  _accidentally_ ran into the two boys. (Jean swears on his grave it was accidental. Honest to god.) The rest of the afternoon was spent in Sasha’s shoebox apartment and, while Jean played with his daughter on the carpeted floor, Marco and Sasha sat on the couch, gossiping to their heart’s content. (What she really wanted to find out was whether or not there was something steamy going on between Marco and Jean. Marco blushed, but denied everything profusely. Sasha laughed.)

The doorbell rang for the umpteenth time that evening. “Whoa, mom, look at that, people! Take the baby,” Sasha exclaimed, unceremoniously shoving her daughter into Carla’s hands. To get to the door, she practically leaped over her father and Jean, who were heatedly discussing little league and how early kids could start playing soccer. The doorbell rung once more before she reached it, gripping the knob and swinging the door open.

“Oh, Armin, I could kiss you!” Sasha exclaimed when she saw her childhood friend standing in front of her door in all his wonderful, salvationist glory. She pulled him in for a tight, bone-crushing hug. “You just saved me from my mother’s monstrous camera.”

“And I’m gonna need and EMT to save me from your choke-hold, Sash,” Armin wheezed out, patting her on the back three times before she finally let go.

She ruffled his blond hair twice, first for old times’ sake and then for good measure, before turning to look at the girl standing beside him, more beautiful than anyone Sasha had ever seen before. She was all high cheekbones and dark eyes, short-cut hair the color of coals tickling the edge of her jaw. “Hello,” she said charmingly, handing over a wrapped present with a beautiful smile on her lips. “This is for Sophie, from the both of us.”

Armin chuckled as Sasha thanked the girl and took hold of the present. Well, whatever was inside was certainly hard and rectangle-shaped. Sasha narrowed her eyes at Armin. “This feels suspiciously like a book, Arlert. If it’s a book, I’ll maul you to death with it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with books,” Armin huffed defensively.

Sasha stepped aside to let the pair into the apartment, shutting the door behind them. “The only book I need tells me how to wipe baby butts, and I need it to reach the high shelf in my kitchen because, after a lot of trial and error, I have learned how to wipe baby butts.”

Armin and the girl both laughed heartily as Sasha flung the still-wrapped book toward her brother. (‘Eren, think fast!’ ‘Ow! What was that for?!’) The girl suddenly seemed to remember something, reaching down to wipe her hand on the fabric of her neat skirt.

“Right, I forgot to introduce myself,” she muttered. Her hand reached out for a handshake, one which Sasha gladly accepted. Her grip was strong and firm, probably even stronger than Grisha’s, Sasha mused.  “Mikasa Ackerman, pleasure to meet you.”

Sasha smiled sweetly. “Pleasure’s all mine. I’m Sasha.”

Armin gently whacked Sasha’s shoulder. “Alright, could you keep Mikasa company for a while?” he asked, head already turning in the direction of Sasha’s mother and Sophie. “I’ll be over there where nice people do nice things with other nice people, alright? Don’t tell her anything stupid or embarrassing, Sash.”

With a pointed look, he stalked off, taking a seat next to Carla and joining in the embarrassing cooing. Jean and her father were already bad enough, but her mother and Armin brought a whole new level of disgusting and sugary to the party.

Sasha looked over at Mikasa with a small grin.  “Let’s go to the kitchen and get you something to drink, yeah?”

After pushing through the small (albeit fairy crowded) living room, Sasha and Mikasa found refuge behind the closed kitchen door, exchanging smiles like small children on a run from their caretakers. And soon enough, they were sitting at the small dining table, sipping white and talking about everything under the sun.

“So, I know I’m gonna sound like a boring old aunt at a family gathering, but,” Sasha leaned in over the table, giving Mikasa the Jaeger Troublemaker™ smirk, “you and Armin… anything snazzy going on in that department?”

Mikasa nearly choked on her wine, sputtering droplets of red over her chin. “Wh- No! No, nonononono, we’re not together or anything like that!” she sputtered. “Did he not tell you how we met?”

Sasha shook her head wildly, not even having to feign interest in the situation. For all the years she’d known him, Sasha could barely count on the fingers of one hand the times Armin had confided in her. It had nothing to do with their friendship, Armin was just a very private person – that was something she learned after Eren complained to her about having to drag Armin’s metaphorical dirty laundry out by force, even though they were best friends. Rarely had Armin confided in Sasha of his own accord over the years and, because of that, Sasha was excited to have a willing participant in the little gossiping she got to do.

“Well, as you know, he spent his last semester of high school in Japan, yes? He was staying with my family during that time, and since our town is really small, not a lot of people can speak English that well. The only people he could talk to were my father, my brother and myself. So, we grew quite close during the months we spent together. And when I moved here, to America, to continue my education,” Mikasa explained, “he was the only person I knew.”

Sasha leaned her cheek against a hand, humming charmingly at Mikasa. “That is the sweetest origin story I have ever heard!” she said, a huge smile spreading across her lips. “So, you’re not together?”

Mikasa shook her head, setting down her glass of wine on the table. “Not really. Let’s just say he is not my… type? Yes, that.”

Raising her eyebrows lightly, Sasha regarded the black-haired girl with interest. “Oh? And who would be your type?”

“Well, I prefer boys who prefer me to a thousand-page long book,” she replied, and both girls laughed heartily, like all worries had melted from their minds.

 

* * *

 

 

They talked long into the afternoon, laughing about that one time Armin forgot his gym shorts and had to borrow Sasha’s extra pair, which made his face turn as red as a tomato (‘oh, I can believe that’) or the time Mikasa accidentally walked in on Eren browsing the deepest, darkest parts of the internet (‘been there, done that’). While one of them complained about college and a part-time job, the other complained about motherhood and the lack of a part-time job. But the two had clicked together perfectly, like long-lost pieces of a puzzle.

When Jean poked his head into the kitchen to announce that it was time for cake and that Mrs. Braus was completely ready to drag Sasha back into the party, the girls quickly made their way into the crowd again. Eren had even gone to such lengths to make Sasha’s day a misery that he sat her down into the ‘crown seat’ (she couldn’t believe Jean actually brought a re-decorated Burger King crown for her to wear). For the rest of the evening, Sasha held Sophie in her hands, forced to smile as she fed her daughter bits and pieces of cake.

“Yeah, you eat this, but you won’t eat peaches,” Sasha complained, the most unamused look on her face.

Sitting to Sasha’s left, Doctor Jaeger chuckled, pushing his glasses a bit further up on the bridge of his nose. “To me, that sounds a lot like another certain fussy baby…”

“Dad, when I’m done with you, Eren’s gonna have to apply some of his newly gathered medical knowledge to patch you back up,” she spat at her father, and Sophie chuckled in her arms.

Jean frowned, in his seat opposite to Sasha. “I can’t believe she has your sense of humor,” he muttered. “Next thing we know, she’ll have your brother’s drooling problem when she sleeps.”

“Hey, take that back, you ass! I don’t drool in my sleep!”

“Yeah, well, make me, doctor boy!”

Ugh. Sasha really hated birthday celebrations.

Sophie giggled in her arms once more, tugging on the loose strands of Sasha’s dark hair, amber eyes staring giddily at her mother. And when Sasha heard the little girl in her arms giggle soundly, she didn’t feel the usual emptiness in her stomach No, instead she felt the tiniest of smiles bubbling up in her own chest, before letting it bloom over her face. Perhaps all it took was a little time.


	5. Among the Wildflowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know what i really like? trademark cheerful characters being brought down to their knees and crying and being overall insecure and depressed. that's why i'm going to see this fic through to the end. to break my lil baby sasha into as many pieces as possible 
> 
> besides, i, too, sometimes feel like a cherry blossom (it's not a very good feeling), and it kinda helps to fool myself into thinking i'm not the only one
> 
> anyway, without further ado

 

Not even a month had passed since Sophie’s birthday before the old, familiar dread gripped Sasha’s heart once more.

Her fingers felt as heavy as anchors, pressing down against her phone's brightly-lit screen, typing in a perfectly memorized set of digits. Sasha's entire body felt as though it was on fire and, moments ago, she had cried out every tear she could muster. “Whenever you feel like you need help,” he had told her all those months before, “just call me.” She didn’t realize that she had actually finished typing in his cellphone number – his  _private_ cellphone number, since he insisted she was among the small group of people he considered ‘friends of friends’ – and the phone in her hand started letting out noises of rhythmical ringing, a thousand times slower than the rapid beat of her heart.

“Hello?”

Shit. Oh, how Sasha had stupidly hoped that he wouldn't pick up the phone and that she wouldn't have to actually speak with him. "Hi, Levi?" she muttered into the receiver. "It's Sasha. Jaeger."

Levi didn't say anything for a little while, and Sasha feared that maybe he had enough of her hot-and-cold behavior. "So, Jaeger? What do you need?"

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her erratic nerves. "A few months ago you said you could help me... I think I'd like to take you up on your offer. The appointments, I mean." She fumbled with a strand of her hair nervously, twirling it around slightly shaking fingers. The two of them were a complete contrast, Sasha mused. While she shook like a leaf in the cold, autumn winds, Levi sounds as stoic and solid as ever. His voice was clear, strong, never wavering for a minute.

"I figured you would change your mind," Levi murmured. "My Friday is pretty much clear this week. D'you think you can make it?"

A weight fell from her shoulders after hearing him say that. Frantically, she nodded. "Yeah, Friday's fine," Sasha said. „I guess I'll see you then.“ The line was quiet for a short breath of time, before Sasha remembered to mutter an honest thank you. Before she tapped the 'end call' button, she could hear Levi's small reply of 'don't worry'.

 

* * *

 

 

They took to silence again. The atmosphere between them wasn't as strange and tense and awkward as it was a few months ago when she had last seen him and turned down his offer of help. Sasha was afraid more than anything. Not of Levi, per se, but of the bare thought of opening up to someone.

Her problems were always hers and hers alone, it was like that since she was little. The one she shared with the most was Eren, always Eren, but Sasha felt like she couldn't ask him to carry this burden. It would be unfair to her brother. He was in pre-med, studying his ass off and trying to become something, trying to become  _someone_ Sasha could never be. Asking him to lend her his ear so that she could cry and beg for help would be cruel and selfish.

"I don't know what to even say to you," she broke the silence, forcing Levi to look up from his clipboard.

He nodded. "Just tell me how you feel, then," Levi encouraged. He set his clipboard down and intertwined his bony fingers lined with small scars. At that moment, Sasha didn't want to talk about her feelings. The only thing she wanted to hear were the stories of those scars on his knuckles, a shade or so paler than his fair skin.

“I'm fine," she lied.

Levi could only sigh and roll his eyes. "If you were fine, you wouldn't be here, would you?"

"I'm... less than fine."

"C'mon, try to elaborate," Levi told her. He seemed legitimately interested now, watching her carefully. It was so unlike his usual bored demeanor that Sasha thought someone had taken over his mind, a demon of some sort. "It doesn't matter if you can't find the right words. Just try to tell me how you feel."

"Tired, mostly," she sighed. "Crushed. Weighed down."

"By... what, exactly?" he asked.

Sasha bit her lip. There was no easy answer to that question. Was she tired of her daughter? Crushed by her monotonous work? Weighed down by her non-existent future? "By everything. By Sophie and my stupid job and the fact that I should be in vet school right now, studying and learning. I'm supposed to stay up all night because of exams, not because Sophie is being cranky."

Levi hummed in response, narrowing his steel eyes slightly. "It makes you feel angry?"

"Well... yeah? I suppose so. I'm not really the type to get angry a lot," Sasha muttered. "I never shout or get pissed off. I just get..."

"Tired?"

Sasha nodded. She ran her fingers through her dark bangs, straightening them and forcing the two loose strands of hair from her ponytail to fall straight along her face and frame it. "Very tired. Both physically and mentally. It's like everything is too dull, too hard to do. I don't have the will to even move, let alone function like a grown-up should." She laughed slightly, hoping to sound the least bit cheerful. „Grown-up. It's strange, two years ago, I wouldn't have thought of myself as a grown-up. I didn't think I'd get this... tired.“

He took the clipboard back into his hands, a ghost of a smile passing over his lips. "And what do you think could help you feel less tired?"

"I don't know," Sasha muttered. She tugged on one loose strand of hair and sighed. "Letting someone else take care of Sophie?"

The clipboard from Levi's lap suddenly smacked her over the head - not hard enough to actually hurt her, but it still gave Sasha a fright. "That's your problem," Levi said matter-of-factly. "You blame everything on the kid."

Well, Sasha almost said, it seems fitting since it  _is_  her fault. Confusedly, she rubbed the top of her head as she stared deep into Levi's eyes, trying to find some clarity in his words. "I don't understand."

"Sasha, you don't think you love your daughter," he stated. His scarred fingers intertwined again and Levi leaned forward. Those words he said weren't even a question, or perhaps a hypothesis, but a simple fact, as true as saying the sun rises in the East. "I'm here to tell you that's not true."

"I'm pretty sure I'd know if-"

"You didn't let me finish," Levi reprimanded her, frowning slightly. Sasha shrunk back in her seat, inclining her head slightly, wordlessly apologizing. Moments like these made her feel like she was a child again, sitting in the principal's office after breaking a window while playing with her classmates. "Sasha, listen. It's in my line of work to deal with messed up people. I'm a psychologist, it's what I do. I've seen a lot of people who are messed up and a lot of people who aren't, and I know I could help you if you just let me. It's not hard to fix something that went wrong in here," he tapped two fingers against his temple gently, "if you only let others around you help."

Sasha felt like she could cry. There was a sharp sting in her chest and her throat felt tight. Even if she knew how to reply to Levi's words, her voice would probably be swallowed up before she even opened her lips to speak. "You should talk to others about what you're going through, Sasha," Levi continued. "It doesn't even have to be me. Talk to your brother, your mom, your old man. Heck, talk to your daughter, her father, a friend - anyone! You don't have to fight the world on your own. Not everyone is out to hurt you."

Sasha bit out a dry laugh, tears already spilling from her eyes. "You say that, Levi," she rasped out, "but most of the time, it seems like you're lying." Without another word, she left him sitting alone in his too-clean, almost clinical office. Sasha didn't dare look back even once.

 

* * *

Trees were the loveliest thing in the world, to Sasha's eyes. From their beginnings, they were small and insignificant seeds, tiny enough to be stepped on or swallowed carelessly. But, with enough time and sun and healthy ground to thrive in, they grew. From seed to sprout, from sprout to sapling, from sapling to a tall, strong cherry tree. The cherry she was sitting under was almost impervious to anything – the wind could only sway its branches in a gentle way, the rain could only wet the pink blossoms and green leaves, and the sun never even thought of doing it any harm. Even the indents on the bark, spelling out initials of young, hopeful lovers didn't seem to hurt the tree. If anything, they made it more beautiful, marking their love for as long as the tree stood erect.

Sasha envied that cherry tree. She, too, wanted to be strong. She wanted to thrive from the things encircling her, wanted to enjoy the love graced upon her, to bask in the glory of the summer sun. Instead of being a tree, however, Sasha was simply a small cherry blossom.

Fragile, gentle, easily crushed. Watching the blossom in her open palm, Sasha mused about how easy it would be to crush it. She wanted to encircle her fingers around the pink petals, encasing them with darkness and choking them until they wilted away and died. In too many ways, she was like the cherry blossom in her open palm.

“I spoke to Levi yesterday,” her father’s words brought her back into reality. He had been telling her about his work, and Sasha could coldly ignore those stories, but at the very mention of Levi’s name, she looked up at her father like a wounded animal, stuck in a corner, with no way to turn back. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. He has confidentiality agreements he has to stick to.”

“Why are you bringing this up?” Sasha asked.

Grisha shifted his weight on the park bench and took his glasses off. He scrubbed the lenses clean with the edge of his button-up, regarding Sasha with eyes which were strict and gentle at the same time. “No matter what, Sasha, you are still my daughter. Parents worry about their children.”

She looked away from her father’s incriminating gaze, staring out into the park’s field graced with flowers. On a stretched-out blanket, among an array of picked flowers, her brother was tickling Sophie mercilessly, giving her chubby cheek a dozen raspberry kisses. Next to him, Mikasa was busy weaving a crown made entirely out of daisies and forget-me-nots, gazing lovingly upon Eren and Sophie’s antics.

 _That’s what a real family should look like_ , Sasha thought.  _Pretty mothers in sundresses and flowers in their hands, fathers with growing stubbles and tickle fights are what Sophie needs. Not worn-out teenaged mothers who barely make ends meet._

“Did I tell you how Levi and I met?” Grisha asked.

“I don’t think I really care, dad.”

He tugged lightly on her ear, letting out a hearty laugh. “Don’t be rude to your father,” he warned her.

While looking up into his eyes, Sasha felt nothing but eternal hatred for herself. Even her father, who spent more time looking at medical records and x-ray scans than he did at his own family, was a better parent than Sasha. He at least knew how much he loved his kids. He knew that he could grant them a happy life and make up for all the times he missed out.

Suddenly feeling very sick to her stomach, Sasha stood up. “I think I need to go get some fresh air, dad,” she murmured, dusting off her old overalls.

“We are in a park.”

“Yeah, but… Just bring Sophie back home when you’re done with your outing, ‘kay? Love you, bye.”

Grisha couldn’t do much more but simply watch as Sasha rushed down the pathway, practically leaping across the park and rushing to get away. He sighed, scratching his beard. “Yo, where’s Sash off to?” Eren asked, carrying Sophie on one hip and rocking her in his arms. “Mika and I thought it’d be a good idea to go get some ice-cream.”

Mikasa worriedly looked down the park’s crooked pathway, staring at Sasha’s retreating figure until she became only a blurry spot in the background. “I hope she will be alright,” she mused.

“Of course she will,” Grisha said. He pushed himself up to his feet, grinning toothily at his son. “We Jaegers are extraordinarily strong people – like cherry trees. Now, ice-cream, my treat.”

As they walked away, their direction opposite of the one Sasha had taken, Grisha frowned, brushing a tender cherry blossom from his shoulder. He didn’t stay to watch it crumple down to the ground, or to see his son’s shoe step cruelly on the small flower. They left the park and the gentle, crumpling blossoms while heading toward the setting sun, chatting amicably amongst themselves.


	6. Oh, Brother, I Will Hear You Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoa, hello there!  
> i'm terribly sorry for the unannounced hiatus, but school got the best of me. either way, here's chapter six, which i wrote in, like, one afternoon after drinking far too much tea and wine. also, i wanted to assure you all that updates will be semi-regular after the 16th of June, when my school year ends. i promise to be consistent and get this fic done asap!
> 
> and just to give you a little idea of how things might turn out - we finally get to see the appearance of some characters from the snk-verse in the next few chapters (like Historia, Ymir, and finally Connie!!) and the plot will be moving a little bit into the southern direction what with Sasha's looming mental state and all 
> 
> please, if you find any mistakes or inconsistencies in the storyline, just tell me and i'll work it all out! thanks aaaaand have fun reading!
> 
> (also, for reference, right now Sophie is five and Sasha is 23)

Four years were the shortest time, so it seemed. Sasha barely had time to blink before Sophie was all set to start attending kindergarten. One minute, she could barely talk and blubber, and the other she was waving Sasha goodbye from the kindergarten fence, a smiling care-taker by the name of Petra holding her tiny hand. It was magical, the relief Sasha experienced once she got eight hours of peace and quiet a day. She even had enough freedom to get a job, which was an unbelievable experience for Sasha. A tiny, childish voice screamed inside her mind ecstatically about having her own income and not depending on her father so much anymore. It was a step closer to becoming a fully-fledged adult with a life she wouldn't cringe so much at anymore. There was only one other thing to take care of, Sasha mused...

The lit cigarette burned between Sasha's slender fingers as she watched the sun set behind the tall buildings of her town. The orange glare of the burning sun dipped between two tall skyscrapers, shedding the few remaining streaks of light against the apartment window and tinting their living room as bright as it possibly could. Under this sunlight, the apartment looked like it was on fire, just a small shoebox burning hot and orange as the flames in her mother's fireplace.

Sasha remembered her mother's fireplace well – it was large and made entirely of stone, and upon the mantel sat a few framed photographs of her family. The first photo had only three people in it, the Braus grandparents and her mother's younger brother Alexander, who had died in a war overseas before Sasha and Eren could even understand the concept of having an uncle. The photo next to it was a framed portrait of Eren's grinning face and Sasha's annoyed grimace, baby fat still very pronounced on both their chubby cheeks. Next to it, a family portrait (and also, the only picture in Carla Braus' house which still had her ex-husband on it) of the four of them, a few weeks before Eren and Sasha started going to school.

The last picture on the mantelpiece was that of Sophie, a little after she'd been born. It was the only picture of her daughter Sasha ever took, holding the camera with her own two hands. Tufts of feather-soft brown hair fell over the little girl's forehead as she lay in her small crib, golden eyes and tiny hands pointed at Sasha and the camera in her hands. The only reason why Sasha had agreed to taking it in the first place was because Carla had been nagging her non-stop. But when Sophie saw the camera in Sasha's hands and her mother's furrowed brows and thundering eyes peeking from behind the cheap Nikon, she smiled for the first time. It was also the first time Sasha had felt warmth climb into the cavity inside her chest. As far as photographs on her mother's fireplace went, Sasha liked that one best.

„Perhaps,“ Sasha murmured to the empty apartment and the cigarette in her hand, „I should get another apartment. A larger one. With a fireplace, like mom's house.“

„You know, that actually sounds nice,“ Eren's voice spoke out of the blue, forcing Sasha's heart to beat ten times its usual speed. After letting out a high-pitched and entirely absurd scream, she jumped from the window sill she was leaning against and pointed an accusing finger in her brother's direction.

Her face burned bright, with embarrassment or rage, Eren couldn't quite tell. „You! What the hell are you doing here?!“ she asked, still fighting to calm down her racing, startled heart. „You scared the life out of me!“

Eren simply shrugged and set down the brown paper bag full of groceries on the coffee table. From the pocket of his jeans peered out a bright pink pendant in the shape of a rabbit. „You gave me the key, remember?“

„For emergencies only, you empty-headed bastard,“ Sasha huffed at him. She sighed slightly and walked over to the coffee table, glancing down into the paper bag. „Sweets and carrots. That doesn't look like an emergency to me.“

Her brother, already grinning in his own trademark way, put an arm around Sasha's shoulder. „I was seriously sibling-deprived, so I brought over some groceries and beer as a peace offering. My soul was so deprived of you, Sash, that I was close to dying. That's one hell of an emergency, if you ask me.“

„Good thing no one's asking you,“ Sasha muttered. „Let's talk in the kitchen.“

 

 

Turns out, Eren really did need his sister's help. After he helped her put away the groceries, they sat down at the kitchen table, beer bottles at the ready, and ashtrays already filled to the brim with Sasha's cigarette butts.

„Where's Sophie?“ he asked, probably to simply open up a conversation.

„She's with mom and Jean at the zoo, celebrating her fifth birthday, but you're not here to discuss my motherly methods. So, what did you want to talk about?“ Sasha asked, lighting her cigarette and taking in a greedy drag.

She enjoyed the feeling of smoke which spread through her lungs and, as she breathed the smoke out, she made sure to turn her face away from Eren's. Her brother looked bullied enough without smoke-induced tears in his eyes.

„I had a fight with Mika last night,“ he murmured. The bottle in his hands was covered in droplets of water which clung to his tanned skin. He showed no intention of  _actually_  drinking the beer he'd bought, and a worried alert flashed in Sasha's mind.

The romance which bloomed between Mikasa and Eren was a slowly burning one, more of a hot ember than a searing flame. They weren't even sure if they could make a relationship work with their busy schedules and Mikasa's constant travels back to Japan to visit her family. But, after an embarrassing and drunk night they spent together, it just happened. They were a happy couple, despite spending more time away than together. Sasha deemed their relationship a failure as soon as Mikasa moved into Eren's apartment, since anyone with half a brain would run away screaming after seeing her brother's hamper or his dishwasher habits (or simply a lack thereof), but Mikasa stayed. She always stayed, no matter what. That's why, after three years of staying, Sasha worried that Mikasa would finally leave.

She leaned over the table, narrowing her eyes. „What did you do this time?“ she asked, using the same voice she always used on her daughter after discovering one of their walls covered with crayon drawings.

Eren looked at her, offended, one of his hands resting on his chest. „What makes you think it's my fault?!“

„It's always your fault, Er. Now, how did you upset Mikasa this time?“

He sighed, shoulders slumping down. His green eyes stared a hole straight through his beer bottle as he brought it to his lips, gulping greedily. Sasha had the time to take another drag of her cigarette before Eren replied. „She thinks I'm cheating on her.“

Sasha almost choked once she'd heard those words leave his lips. She coughed violently, not sure whether she should be looking at her brother with shock or anger in her eyes. „Eren Jaeger, you tell me this instant that she's gravely mistaken, or so help me,“ she managed to rasp out once she regained her composure.

„Are you seriously asking me if I'm- Seriously, Sash, I'm offended now,“ her brother said, angrily staring into Sasha's brown eyes. „Of course I'm not cheating on her! I might be an asshole and a jerk and, yeah, sometimes very,  _very_  rude for no reason at all, but I'm not a cheater.“

Sasha nodded solemnly, muttering an apology. The beer suddenly tasted far too bitter on her tongue, and the cigarette burned inside her lungs in a way she didn't like. „Why does she think that?“

Eren shrugged. He angrily ruffled his already messy hair, leaning his forehead against the table. His voice came out muffled when he spoke, „I don't know.“

„Well, have you been cold to her?“

„I guess a little.“

„Secretive?“

„Well... Yeah.“

„Going out of the apartment early and returning late with vague explanations?“

„Yes, but-„

„Oh, my God. You  _are_  cheating on her!“

Eren looked up at Sasha, his chin still pressed against the wooden surface of the table, as he confusedly gestured with his hand. „What is it with you women and jumping to conclusions?“

His sister gave him a flat look, reaching to flick his nose. „'You women' is a sexist generalization and will not be tolerated under my roof.“

Eren gave a vague nod, rubbing his sore nose. Sasha watched him gently, almost like she was feeling sorry for him, as he took another sip of his beer. Her brother was far from a saint, that much was sure, but he certainly wasn't a cheater. In relationships, at least. Board games were an entirely different matter, however.

„Why have you been secretive, then?“ Sasha suddenly asked, remembering all the questions she had given before. The silence settled on them once again as Eren sunk deep into his seat.

„I've been with Mikasa for, what, three years now, yeah?“ it sounded more like a question than a statement when Eren had said it. „And I'm tired of this... I mean, we barely do anything together anymore, right? Since I'm busy with med school, and she's got both college  _and_  work... I just wanted to do something special for her, you know? But I wanted it to be a surprise. I didn't want her to find out before I had everything ready and stuff.“

Sasha put her cigarette out and nodded, suddenly understanding everything. „So, you wanted to go on a romantic getaway with her and ask her to marry you there, right?“

There was a mixture of exasperation and amazement in Eren's eyes. „How do you-„

„I'm your twin, Humpty Dumpty, I know these kinds of things,“ she reminded him, bumping their knees together under the kitchen table. „Besides, Armin told me.“

Eren muttered something along the lines of 'should have known' before he let his head sink down to the table again. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds which surrounded them were Sasha's heavy breathing in and out of cigarette smoke and the clicking of her almost-empty beer bottle. It was comfortable and it was familiar, because silence with the two of them was never simply silence. Sasha could tell how her brother felt and what he meant by the way he tapped his fingers against her knee under the table, and Eren could relish in reading Sasha's facial expressions as she silently mused over the problem at hand.

Suddenly, after putting out another cigarette, Sasha spoke up. „Don't be too extravagant with your choice of rings. It's Mikasa, she likes tiny and subtle and cute. And don't do it in a public place, she'll freak out and run away. Also, get straight to the point, Er. No beating around the bush.“

„If she doesn't dump me for,“ he took a pause to make quotation signs with his wiry fingers, „ _cheating_  on her.“

„She won't,“ Sasha assured her brother. „I'll talk to Mikasa. Don't worry, your sister will take care of everything!“

Eren smiled gratefully and reached across the table to grasp Sasha's hand. Then, he mumbled how 'his sister will probably end up failing' and went back to wallowing in self-pity with his head against the table. Sasha traced lined against the back of his palm gently, tenderly, as if she were holding a gentle bird in her hand. She knew better than to strike up a new conversation now that he was clearly done talking, and she decided to let him settle for a while.

So, her thoughts wandered back to her mother's fireplace.  _A new apartment,_ Sasha mused, spinning the idea around her mind. A place with two bedrooms, instead of only one she had to share with Sophie. Perhaps a bigger kitchen, one Sasha could bake in without causing a small fire. A bathroom which smelled like soap and not sewage because of crappy plumbing problems. A place which was closer to Sasha's office and her dad's apartment in the center of town. A new apartment in which Sasha and Sophie could live together without being squeezed to death by the constantly shrinking walls of their current shoebox. Yeah, that sounded lovely.

„What?“ Eren asked, already lifting his head up from the table and grabbing his beer bottle. „You look kinda... happy.“

Sasha frowned. „You said that like it was unusual for me to be happy.“ Was it true? Was it so strange for her brother to see her smiling and happy and hopeful? Was she a constant mess of frowns and worrying glances?

„It's not unusual, just...“ his green eyes were reluctant, lips chapped and dry. „Nevermind. What were you thinking about?“

Sasha wasn't sure if she didn't want to accept his 'nevermind'. Actually, she wanted to press forward, push her brother until he told her what he meant. Sasha was just... what? Sad, terrible, depressed? But she let the subject drop like rain from the sky, she let it be forgotten amidst all the other things they didn't talk about.

Instead, she sincerely answered her brother's question, „I thought about the apartment. You remember, I mentioned it when you stalked inside like Freddy Krueger, ready to slay little unsuspecting me.“

„Right, an apartment with a fireplace. Can apartments even have fireplaces?“ Eren frowned. „Isn't that, like, a safety hazard?“

Sasha rolled her eyes. „Maybe in the time of ye ole London fire in, like, the 17th century, but today, my dear brother, we have safety measures, like a mesh screen and fire alarms!“

He sighed, drumming his fingers against the table. Both their bottles were drunk a long time ago, emptied completely, and now only served as Eren's focal points. He changed his focus from his empty bottle to Sasha's. „What even got you so hung up on a fireplace?“

„I was just thinking about... y'know, mom's fireplace mantel and such. And besides, this apartment's too small, it's practically a-„

„A shoebox, yeah. You say that an awful lot.“

Sasha shrugged. The apartment was still floating around her mind. She had money saved up in the bank – mostly parts of her unused college fund – and her boss wasn't cruel. If she asked, he would probably give her a raise. Maybe, if she started looking now, Sasha and Sophie could move out of the apartment by the time the year ran out.

„Yeah. But, this time next year, Sophie and I won't be in a shoebox anymore. We'll be somewhere larger. Like, like a shoebox for knee-high boots. Spacious. Doesn't stink of old sneakers, but old leather. Kinda like dad.“

She enjoyed the way Eren laughed, throwing his head back as he snorted through his nose.


	7. No Postcode Envy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i know i said i would post as soon as school was out... but love live school idol festival happened and no one who has ever played or heard of that devil game can blame me. it's strangely addictive. i need an ur nozomi. 
> 
> either way, i felt a bit productive today, going so far as to actually EDIT EVERY CHAPTER holy shit. so now, a few of the inconsistencies are fixed, and this chapter is slow and boring and mostly descriptions, but i swear, stuff kicks off soon. i will add connie to the list of characters next chapter i swear i know i am being mean but please dont kill me ok thanks 
> 
>  
> 
> (also 7th chapter on the 7/7 i swear im not with the illuminati or whatever)

_Hey, Sash. I'm just checking in with you, but you probably can't hear the phone. Um... Either way, I just wanted to see if everything was going fine with Mikasa. And the apartment viewing, of course! Yeah, I hope the apartment's big and cheap and... has good lighting? That's what apartments are supposed to have, right? Anyway, Sophie's fine. She's pretty fast for a four-year-old. Jean's chasing her down the driveway as we speak. There's no cars passing by or anything, it's perfectly safe. Oh, wait. There's a cyclist. He's going pretty fast. Talking on his phone. Sophie's in mom's arms now, so she's safe, it's okay. Oh, shit. Fuck, Sasha, I gotta go, Jean just got ran over by a cyclist. Oh, that's gotta hurt. I think there's blood. Sophie's fine! She's with mom, and Armin's checking Jean's pulse. Looks like he's still breathing. Right, yeah, car keys. Um, just-just call me when you can, Sash? I'm sure Jean will be fine, he's just... Oh, that arm looks broken. Wow, okay, I gotta drive your idiot ex-boyfriend to the hospital now, and you should... uh, you know... talk to Mikasa and- Okay seriously, I'm going now. Jesus, Jean, don't be such a baby, can't you see I'm talking on the phone? Oh, stop being so melodramatic, it's not bleeding that muc-_

The message ended there. Of course, when she decided to leave her toddler with her mother and Jean, something bad had to happen. Marco even wasn't with them, which made Sasha terribly uneasy, since he was the only reliable and completely responsible one out of the group. Sure, Armin was capable of looking after Sophie, but he had a tendency to get carried away with laughing when Eren and Jean got into a fist-fight.

So, her poor mother was left with a toddler, two completely immature adults, and a laughing machine with an IQ larger than life. God, she had no idea how she could possibly apologize to her saint-like mother.

„Hey, I'm here,“ Mikasa said, walking up to Sasha from down the street. „I couldn't find a parking spot, sorry. This the building?“

Sasha hummed affirmatively, putting her phone away into the pocket of her baggy jeans. „Yeah. Third floor, number 303,“ Sasha replied, looking up at the building against the setting sun. The building was tall, reaching an impressive number of eighteen stories, with peeling white paint on the lower sides – a result of sun damage, Sasha guessed.

She was lucky to stumble upon an apartment viewing so soon. After all, she had only gotten the idea of getting a new apartment a week ago, so Sasha hadn't expected to actually find any good options or available viewings for at least a few months. But, with a blessing from the gods of moving and finding new places to live, Sasha found an apartment not too far away from her office building which more or less fit her standards. In the last minute, she remembered her promise to Eren, how she would talk to Mikasa and shoo every thought of adultery and infidelity out of her mind.

Which led to their current situation – exiting the elevator of the tall building and walking toward apartment number three-oh-three. Mikasa's heels clicked against the floor, the sound echoing and bouncing off the hallway walls. So far, Sasha was pleased with the appearance of the building.

The elevator wasn't large and new, and it creaked a little while it rode up and down the floors, but it seemed perfectly safe for usage. The hallways were nicely arranged, with no grafitti on the walls or litter tracing the ground like in Sasha's current building. It also didn't smell like rotten eggs, which was an added plus. From the appearance of the hallways, you could read pretty much everything about the prospective neighbours. The apartment door closest to the one Sasha was looking at was number 304, and it had a leesh tangled by the side of the door, along with a pair of male worn sneakers. The carpet had a pattern of ridiculous cartoon dogs on it, most likely golden retrievers. A little lower down the hall were apartments 301 and 302, both of which had plants in front of their respective entrances. 301 had half a dozen pair of children's shoes, some tiny like a newborn's and others a bit larger like Sophe's. Around their peephole was a large ring full of colourful flowers, adding flair and overall happiness to the appearance of their door.

Door number 302 was a stark difference. On one side of the door was a potted fern, well taken care of, along with a pair of high heels. However, that was all. The black carpet and door seemed to emit some kind of cold air, just like a type A, stuck up businesswoman lived there.

„Everything alright?“ Mikasa asked.

Sasha nodded mutely, turning back to door number 303. When she spoke to the real-estate agent, a nice woman in her late twenties, she said that the apartment was already mostly empty. No memorabillia left behind, only the still usable furniture the previous owner had no more interest in. The area in front of the door reflected that. Door number 303 looked even emptier than 302.

Sasha denied that her fingers were shaking slightly as she reached for the doorbell. She buzzed the button twice in fast succession, then took a polite step back, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Mikasa. They exchanged small smiles before the door opened, revealing Sasha's real-estate agent.

„Oh, good afternoon!“ the realtor greated them with a beaming smile. She shook Sasha's hand, her grip incomparably weaker than Sasha's own, and then did the same with Mikasa. „I'm Anka Rheinberger, and you must be my prospective buyers! Which one of you is Miss Jaeger?“

Sasha gave a small wave. „That would be me, hi. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Miss Rheinberger.“

After exchanging a few more pleasantries and being invited inside, Sasha and Mikasa finally found themselves on the other side of the apartment. Mikasa closed the door after entering and took her place beside Sasha.

„So, you're both interested in this apartment?“ Miss Rheinberger asked them, sounding like honey and flowers and sugar melting in your cup of tea.

Mikasa shook her head, laughing charmingly. „No, no, I'm here only as moral support.“

„That's right. I sometimes tend to forget it's not only me this apartment has to fit, so I had to bring a different pair of eyes to remind me of it.“

The realtor nodded, sifting through the papers in her hands absentmindedly. „Do you have a significant other moving in with you, Miss Jaeger?“ she asked politely.

„No, nothing like that,“ Sasha said. „It's just me and my little kid. And please, call me Sasha.“

She recieved a beaming smile from the other woman, full of pearly white teeth and spreading red lips. „Alright then, Sasha. Honestly, I think this is an excellent choice regarding your kid. There are two good schools in the area, and there are a lot of kids in this building alone – really, it's great for new parents and their children.“

Sasha nodded a little, looking around the small hallway. Just this part of the place was larger than their bathroom, which made Sasha very, _very_ happy.

„So, I'll just wait for you to check out the apartment on your own a little, and if you have any questions, feel free to come and ask,“ Miss Rheinberger concluded, leaning against the hallway wall and crossing her pretty legs.

Sasha and Mikasa both gave her a small thanks before proceeding further into the apartment. The hallway was directly connected to the living room – a space almost twice the size of her old apartment's living room. The fireplace Sasha had wanted was there. It was small and covered with a mesh screen, but the mantelpiece was wide and made of grey marble, which fit in perfectly with the decorations Sasha had in mind. In front of the fireplace was a white sofa which, truthfully, looked a little used. It must have been one of the furniture pieces the old owned had left behind after moving out. The windows were large and spacy, facing the west of the city. Sasha liked the idea of not missing the view of the sunsets, since that was the only thing she liked about her current apartment.

„The living room is pretty spacious,“ Mikasa commented. „I like it.“

Sasha nodded, running her hand across the window sill. „It's got good lighting,“ she said. Then, remembering the voice mail Eren had left on her phone earlier, she turned to face Mikasa. „That's what apartments are supposed to have, right?“

Mikasa laughed bubbly, covering her lips with her pale fingers. „That is the exact same thing Eren said when we started looking for our apartments, honestly. You two are sometimes so alike it's scary.“

Sasha hummed. She turned to glance out the window, chewing on her lower lip. „How are you and Eren doing, by the way?“ she asked. Not entirely as subtle as she could have been, but it wasn't the worst of Sasha's subtlety manuevers.

„So he told you,“ Mikasa sighed. „I should have known.“

Sasha leaned forward, peering out through the window. The view was fairly nice. It captured a perfect photograph of the afternoon sun shining down on the parking lot behind the apartment building. From here, Sasha could even see Maria Memorial, the hospital where her father worked. The gigantic, green-titnted windows of the hospital made it stand out a little from all the other business buildings in their town's centre.

„So, he came over to my place, like, a week ago,“ Sasha started. „And he scared the life out of me, because I was lost in thought, and I didn't know he was there. So, we sat down and had a beer each, and he told me you two had a fight. Now, Mick, I know my brother better than I know myself, so I immediately asked what the fuck he messed up this time.“

Mikasa suppressed a smile, turning her back to Sasha and inspecting the fireplace with pretend interest. „And what did he say?“

Sasha walked over to her friend, wrapping her arm around Mikasa's shoulders. „He was very offended I doubted his chivalrous nature, but that's beside the point. He told me you thought he was cheating.“

Mikasa's thin brows furrowed slightly, and her steel eyes glared at the fireplace. „Did he also tell you he never shows up for dinner anymore, and that he says he'll be with Jean so he can't come home early, and that when I ask Jean, he says he hadn't seen Eren in a month?“

Sasha was about to reply, when a phone's ringtone interrupted her. She turned her head towards the realtor, who blushed bright red and excused herself before she exited the apartment, already answering her phone. When she turned back to Mikasa, she could see a tear rolling down her cheek.

„Oh, shoot! Mikasa, don't cry, please!“ This was bad. Sasha had to do some damage-control soon, or her brother would murder her. „Hey, look, he told me everything, and I can assure you that he's not cheating on you, Mikasa.“

Her friend's steel eyes took a turn to glare at Sasha this time round. Under Mikasa's firm gaze, Sasha felt as vulnerable as a deer. „He told you what his god damn deal was?“

Meekly, Sasha nodded. „But I'm not gonna tell you. I'm under strict orders.“ Shit. That didn't make it sound any better.

„Honestly, Sasha, how do you expect me to believe you if you keep things so vague? I want to know what he's doing, because with each passing day, it seems more and more like I'm being played for a fool and cheated on. Do you know what that feels like?“ Mikasa tried her best not to raise her voice, but Sasha could see more tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

With a small sigh, Sasha pulled Mikasa into her arms. Surprisingly, Mikasa accepted the hug, already leaning her head down on Sasha's chest and heaving a shaky, sob-like sigh. „Listen, Mick, I know what it looks like and I know you're angry at him, because yeah, Eren can sometimes be as dumb as a brick. But trust me when I say that he's not cheating on you.“

Mikasa was still and silent for a moment, before she nodded gently against Sasha's chest. Barely, she forced herself to break up the hug, wiping away trails of silently shed tears. „Sorry, I just... I didn't talk to anyone about it, so I suppose I kind of lost it,“ Mikasa apologized. She turned her head, forcing a smile onto her lips. „Let's go see the master bedroom, yes?“

  

* * *

 

 

„So, what do you think?“ Anka Rheinberger asked as all three of them took the elevator ride down to the ground floor.

Sasha smiled politely, „Well, the place looks amazing, honestly, and money-wise... it also seems pretty doable. I'll just have to see a few more apartments before I make the choice, you know?“

The realtor nodded, walking them out of the building. „I completely understand, don't worry. We'll be in touch then.“ And after shaking hands with both of them, Anka Rheinberger disappeared back into the apartment building.

„I think the apartment was positively amazing,“ Mikasa said, falling into a slow pace back towards her car. „Did you like it?“

Sasha hummed in confirmation, already pressing her phone against her ear. „It's amazing. But, listen, Mick, we're gonna have to drop by the hospital,“ Sasha told her calmly, waiting for her brother to pick up his phone. „Earlier today, Jean may or may not have gotten run over by a text-and-cycler.“

 


End file.
